


When You Come Home All Tired

by Just_A_Simple_Writer



Series: T4TMA week [7]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, Everyone is Trans, Fluff, He/Him and They/Them Pronouns for Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Multi, Polyamory, anyway, hey ao3 why are all your jon tags so WEIRD, theyre just. in love, why are the relationship tags so hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 11:15:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28812522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Just_A_Simple_Writer/pseuds/Just_A_Simple_Writer
Summary: “Gerry?” Jon’s voice floats in from the direction of the lounge, and Gerry looks up from the hundred laces on his boots.“Yeah,” he calls, and Jon appears in the doorway behind Martin.It’s good to see them both, and Gerry fumbles with his laces, trying to get them off faster and cursing the fact that he has so many to begin with.
Relationships: Gerard Keay/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay, Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Series: T4TMA week [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2103342
Comments: 4
Kudos: 71





	When You Come Home All Tired

**Author's Note:**

> t4tma week day one - affection
> 
> title is from The Amazing Devil's [Little Miss Why So](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4O-6xGnGi44)
> 
> if you've been following this series you've learnt an awful lot about my music taste  
> and by that i mean 'that im lowkey obessessed with TAD'

It’s late. It’s _always_ late when Gerry gets home, bone tired and ready to drop into bed. Sure, he technically has enough inheritance to get by without even having a job, but he’d rather come home exhausted five days a week than spend a penny of his mother’s money.

And it’s not so bad, these days. These days he has people to come home to.

They wait up for him, not matter how late he is, and he’s always going to be grateful for them.

“I’m home,” he calls, as soon as he gets in, shrugging his coat off and leaving it over the end of the stairs. It’s heavy, and as much as he likes it it’s a relief to get it off his shoulders.

It’s Martin who appears in the doorway first, smiling gently. “You’re just on time,” he says, and makes a soft, surprised noise as Gerry flops against his chest, arms coming up to wrap around his back. “I just made tea,” he finishes, and hugs Gerry tight. “Long day?”

“Mmf,” Gerry says, into the thick fabric of Martin’s jumper, and then pulls away with some reluctance, realising he needs to take his shoes off.

“Gerry?” Jon’s voice floats in from the direction of the lounge, and Gerry looks up from the hundred laces on his boots.

“Yeah,” he calls, and Jon appears in the doorway behind Martin.

It’s good to see them both, and Gerry fumbles with his laces, trying to get them off faster and cursing the fact that he has so many to begin with.

“You buy your own shoes,” Jon says, amused, and Gerry shoots them an unimpressed look.

“Yeah,” he says, finally managing to kick them off, “because they look good.”

“Fashion over practicality, as always.”

“Stop grouching and hug me,” Gerry says, opening his arms, and Jon smiles, slipping past Martin and pulling Gerry close.

“It’s good to see you,” he says, and kisses Gerry’s cheek. “Come on, there’s tea in the lounge.”

“Perfect,” Gerry says, and lets himself be guided onto the sofa and settled between his partners. True to their words there are three cups of tea steaming away on the coffee table.

“God,” Gerry groans, rolling his aching shoulders and wriggling his toes. He should probably take his binder off, but he _just_ got settled. “What did I do to deserve you two?”

“Many good deeds,” Jon tells him, shoving him gently along so they can all sit down. Gerry, perhaps a little selfishly, arranges himself in the middle, chest against Martin’s back and legs in Jon’s lap, and reaches out to pick up his mug. It reads _World’s No. 1 Grandma_ , though the word ‘grandma’ has been scribbled out by a black sharpie and replaced by ‘goth.’

Martin starts working Gerry’s hair out of its tangled plait and Gerry hums, pleased. Jon has picked up their mug (reading _you are the luckiest boss in the world. We would love to have us as employees._ A gift from Tim and Sasha), and is watching, a soft smile on their face.

Gerry nudges them with his foot, and they roll their eyes.

“Hey, love.” Martin takes one hand out of Gerry’s hair. “Could you pass me my tea?”

“Of course,” Jon says, precariously balancing his mug between his side and Gerry’s leg and reaches for Martin’s mug ( _this is what an awesome boyfriend looks like_ , a joint present from Jon and Gerry). His own mug nearly falls over, and Gerry has to catch it.

“Careful,” Martin says, stifling a laugh, and Jon settles back into their place, exchanging Martin’s mug for theirs.

“I’m always careful.”

Gerry laughs, taking a sip of his tea. He honestly has no idea how Martin is so much better than either he or Jon at making tea, but he’s willing to accept it as a skill.

He’s comfy and warm, but his shoulders are still aching and he really should take his binder off.

Martin, it seems, has noticed, because he slides a finger under one of the straps on Gerry’s shoulder. “I don’t suppose you had the foresight to take your binder off on the train.”

Gerry groans, putting his empty mug on the ground. “I know, I know. I forgot.”

“You always forget,” Jon says, but he’s not accusing. “Come on, take it off now.”

“I’m sure you _never_ forgot,” Gerry says dryly, and maybe he’s a _little_ bit jealous that he’s the only one of the three of them who hasn’t had top surgery. He’s just … never had the time.

“We’ve all forgotten,” Martin says gently, and Gerry grumbles his way through getting off the sofa and taking his shirt and binder off.

He can’t deny that it feels good to get it off, and he pulls his shirt back on, relieved, before climbing back onto the sofa.

“Good,” Martin tells him, kissing his shoulder. “We just want you to be safe, you know.”

“I know,” Gerry says, and closes his eyes as Martin starts rubbing his shoulders, rubbing away the ache.

It feels good, sitting on the sofa between the two people who love him. It feels safe.

Life isn’t so bad.

**Author's Note:**

> this was written for t4tma week and is also posted on my [tumblr :)](https://jaysworlds.tumblr.com)
> 
> this is the final story in this series!


End file.
